No One Compares to Nolan

Modesty won in a rout last week, Nolan Ryan over Rickey Henderson, but certain vital words remain unspoken, so today we borrow from the base stealer to pay the pitcher.

Nolan Ryan is the greatest of all time.

It is time to increase the stakes in the Ryan debate, now that the Hall of Fame question has been slam-dunked into oblivion.

He is three no-hitters ahead of everybody else.

He is 1,200 strikeouts ahead of everybody else.

He has allowed fewer hits per nine innings than anybody else.

He won 273 games for three of the worst-hitting teams of the postwar era--the ‘60s New York Mets, the ‘70s California Angels, the ‘80s Houston Astros--and 32 more for the Geno Petralli-Steve Buechele-Gary Pettis Texas Rangers.

He has done so much and dominated for so long that he has worn down even his staunchest critics, meaning Jim Palmer, who was last seen grimacing through video footage of Ryan’s seventh no-hitter on ESPN’s “Up Close” talk show last week. Jim, you’re 45 and your comeback this spring lasted, what, three innings? Oh, and here’s Ryan striking out his 16th Blue Jay. He’s 44, isn’t he?

Palmer gnashed his teeth and had to admit that Ryan was an impressive physical specimen and that--backhanded compliment, right down the middle--he was pitching better now than he ever had.

Nice of Jim to notice. Since turning 43, Ryan has thrown twice as many no-hitters as Palmer, but that’s nothing. Since turning 43, Ryan has thrown as many no-hitters as anyone who ever pitched, save Sandy Koufax and Bob Feller.

Palmer did his best pitching during the 1970s, both on and off the field. He won three Cy Young Awards, once during the same season Ryan pitched two no-hitters, struck out 383 batters and won 21 games. Ryan also walked 162 batters that year, and Palmer swayed a good many votes by stumping and arguing that no one that wild deserves to receive the American League’s highest pitching honor.

That was half of the knock against Ryan during the early years. The other: Ryan’s not a winner. He’s a .500 pitcher and nothing more.

No question, Ryan the young missile-launcher was flawed, but these criticisms were, too. So Ryan was wild. He also threw faster than any man ever monitored by a speed gun. Ryan was staking out uncharted territory. What did Ryan, in his 20s, know about harnessing such a force? What did anyone?

Nature took care of the problem for Ryan. In his 30s, his fastball shifted out of the triple digits and down to a cruising speed of 95 m.p.h. It enabled him to become a more careful driver, as his dwindling walk totals with the Astros and Rangers attest.

Pitches Ryan learned to control. Victories and losses were different. No pitcher can truly control his own destiny; there is no such thing as a 0-0 tie in baseball, although the Angels and the Astros were working on the patent.

In 1972 with the Angels, Ryan led the league in shutouts (nine) and strikeouts (329) and compiled a 2.28 earned-run average. The Angels batted .242 as a team, and Ryan finished three games above .500, 19-16.

In 1987 with the Astros, Ryan led the league in strikeouts (270) and ERA (2.76) . . . and finished 8-16. Courtesy of the Astro offense (11th out of 12 National League teams), Ryan became the first pitcher to lead the league in both strikeouts and ERA and not win a Cy Young.

Here’s a question for Palmer: Suppose he and Ryan had switched affiliations during the 1970s. Suppose Ryan was an Oriole, pitching behind a lineup that included Boog Powell, Frank Robinson and Davey Johnson. Suppose Palmer had to swap the left side of his infield (Mark Belanger and Brooks Robinson) for Ryan’s (Rudy Meoli and Dave Chalk).

How do the won-lost records look then?

Compare and contrast Ryan now to the names the non-believers once tossed about as supporting evidence in their anti-Express address:

Koufax. He pitched briefly but burned brilliantly, logging 12 major league seasons to Ryan’s 23-plus. But in those 12 seasons, Koufax won 165 games. In Ryan’s first 12 seasons--when he was out of control and merely a .500 pitcher--he won 167.

Feller. His career ERA was 3.25. Ryan’s (3.16) is lower.

Steve Carlton. His career ERA was 3.22. Ryan also beats him by 1,200 strikeouts and five shutouts--and Carlton made nearly as many starts, 709 to 712.

Tom Seaver. Seaver has the edge in ERA (2.86), but with one more shutout and six more victories, Ryan will catch him in those two categories.

Bob Gibson. Along with Koufax, he was the premier power pitcher of his era--and he’s 2,200 strikeouts behind Ryan. He pitched until he was 40 and won 251 games. Ryan had 261 at 40.

Walter Johnson. The “unbreakable” strikeout record (3,508) has now been dusted, and Ryan should eclipse the 5,500 mark this summer. Johnson’s totals of 416 victories, 110 shutouts and 2.17 ERA are other-worldly, but it truly was a different world back then. When Johnson pitched, guys who cleared the fences nine times in a season got nicknamed Home Run Baker.

Cy Young? They named the award after him, didn’t they--the award Ryan’s never won?

While we’re at it, why don’t we compare pilots, too: Who do you like--Orville Wright or Chuck Yeager? Young is baseball antiquity; he won an ungodly 511 games, but he won them between 1890 and 1911. The first 286 came before there was an American League. Let Ryan fire that dead ball at those waxed handlebar mustaches and broomstick bats. They’d have done more than put his name on a trophy.

Today, we’d all be playing Ryanball.

One other thing about the Johnsons and the Youngs. They never had to pitch against the designated hitter. Ryan has done so for nine-plus seasons. Take away the DH and Ryan would be closing in on 6,000 strikeouts as we speak.

Ryan’s is the career future generations of pitchers will gauge themselves against. But will anyone strike out 5,000 again? Is there another assembly of tissue, muscle and tendon capable of withstanding the grind of such a feat, to average 250 strikeouts a season for 20 seasons?

In the final analysis, though, you can throw out all analysis and ask yourself this: If you could buy one ticket to watch one man pitch at any point in baseball history, who would it be?

At 24 or 44, Ryan gets this vote every time.